


The Princeton-Plainsborogh Bikers Club

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Inanimate Object Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The real reason why Wilson won't ride with House on his bike. Written for rounds_of_kink at LiveJournal a few years back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Princeton-Plainsborogh Bikers Club

“Come on, get on, you wuss!” House yelled, donning his helmet. The cane was already fastened along the bike's side.

“I'm not riding with you!” Wilson called back, trying not to scream at the top of his lungs. He was standing by the bus stop, waiting impatiently. Why, oh why, did his car had to break down today? Why? When House had just had his bike vamped the day before?

“The bus doesn't leave for another fifteen minutes, Wilson,” House reminded him. “By which time we'll be home, if you get your butt on this bike right now!”

Wilson didn't even look at the bike, blushing at House's words.

“Wilson. Get over here. Now.”

Sighing, Wilson turned and walked back to House's parking space. “What?”

“You don't want to ride on my bike today, when you didn't have a problem with it just last week,” House said, blue eyes staring Wilson down through the slit on the helmet. “You saw me, didn't you?”

Wilson blushed harder, looking away. “Um.”

_Wilson walked through the underground parking, reaching for his cellphone to call House and ask if he'd be interested in beer and pizza. He hated parking outside on snowy days; his Volvo didn't take it too well. It cost him extra to park here, opposite the hospital, but just for a day or two..._

_House, of course, never left his precious bike outside if he could help it, so Wilson guessed he could just wait by the bike until he found his friend._

_Rounding a corner, Wilson could hear House rev the engine of said bike. Wilson grinned. If he'd been more of a manly man, he'd have thought about the sound of the engine and said, “Fuck yeah.” As it was, he grinned, because House looked like an overgrown five year-old when he went near that bike._

Speak of the devil... _There was House, and there was House's motorbike. House was, in fact, sitting on said bike. Revving the engine. Just sitting there._

No, wait, he's... oh. Oh God. __

_House wasn't just sitting there. He was grinding. Grinding his hips slowly against the seat of the bike, making the engine roar, grinding his hips slowly and dirtily against the leather between his legs. Neck straining, hands clenching on the gas and brake handles._

_Wilson felt his jaw go slack. He stood directly to House's right; if the man turned his face a few inches, he'd look straight at Wilson. But House didn't; his eyes were closed – no helmet – and his mouth was slightly open, tongue flicking over his lips occasionally. Still grinding, still rubbing himself against the leather seat._

_Wilson tried turning away, but couldn't. House looked so... wanton. Needy. He looked like he wanted nothing more than for the bike to come alive and eat him. The older doctor let out an incredible groan, and Wilson turned and ran to his frozen Volvo, hoping the cold seat would prevent him from coming in his pants._

“You saw me doing naughty with my bike in the garage yesterday,” House said, smirking. Wilson could see it from just the way his eyes glittered evilly; House was smirking.

Wilson couldn't for the life of him understand how House could even look him in the eyes without blushing; he had a hard time meeting the other man's chin!

“Well?”

Wilson's brows wrinkled. “Well what?”

“Well, how did you like the show?” House said, actually having the nerve to _wink_ at his friend.

“I did not – House, you were in the parking garage!” Wilson blurted, looking around to see if anyone had heard him. “How could you even think about it? Do the words _security camera_ mean anything to you?”

House shrugged. “Not really; my mind is too crammed full of all these medical terms; can't really fit anything else in there. Now are you going to ride home with me or not?”

Wilson's eyes bulged. “If you think I'm riding that bike after what I saw you do to it -”

“Oh, relax, you big baby, I had my clothes on,” House said. He sounded very exasperated. “Besides, you wouldn't be sitting in it. You'd be sitting behind me.”

“House, you have an unhealthy relationship to motor vehicles, you know that?” Wilson snapped, desperately wishing he'd stop blushing and babbling.

“Oh, you're just jealous,” House countered.

Wilson had to physically turn away from House at that point. “You're insane.” He couldn't let House see how right he was this time.

There was a slight silence.

“Seriously?”

Wilson bit back a laugh. He knew if he could have seen House right then, he'd have looked just like he did when Wilson had taken Cuddy to a play. All wide-eyed and shocked.

“No, House. You've got a problem.”

“Yes, you are! You're jealous! Oh, Jimmy, I never knew!” House said with mock concern.

Wilson turned back around. “Well, I'm not, so just go home, House. I'll see you tomorrow.”

The icy blue eyes sparkled with mirth, and Wilson strongly suspected that if he could have seen House's face then, he would have been smiling.

“Seriously. Put the helmet on and get the fuck on my bike. I'm taking you back to my place. There's really no need to get jealous; once I've had my fill of this beauty...”

House pat the bike lightly.

“... I'll be having my fill of you.”

Wilson groaned loudly. “House! You can't say things like that!”

House chortled. “Bad pun?”

“Worst ever!” Wilson confirmed, but couldn't resist looking up at House through his fringe. “Pun aside. You... you're serious?”

“Never,” House stated fiercely, then added, as if on afterthought, “except today.”

Wilson grinned sheepishly. “You'll drive slowly? Icy roads, remember.”

“Icy roads all the way home,” House said, winking at Wilson.

Wilson sighed in defeat, taking the other helmet. He put it on, then carefully straddled the bike behind House. Just like he'd once done with Cameron, House took Wilson's hands and pulled them tight around his waist.

Wilson laughed a little against House's back. “Okay, go. And drive slowly!”

House did, in fact, drive slowly. All the way home. But that was mainly because Wilson, pressed so close to House's back, hadn't been on the bike for more than a few minutes before he was hard as a rock against House's ass.

House liked the feeling.


End file.
